


Sweet & Savory

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 16,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Whether it's savoring the time they've spent together, or being excited by the sweetness of something new, there's always something for them to celebrate. [written for the NyxNoct New Year's Challenge!]





	1. Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> For Aith's [New Year's challenge!](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/post/181217414404/nyxnoct-january-challenge) A little snippet for each day of the months, starting with "Anniversary!"

“Hey.”

Noctis looked up, teeth sunken into the juicy chunks of steak on his skewer. Nyx was smiling at him, that silly, sideways smile that could mean as much as Noct having his whole heart, or as little as him having some sauce on his chin and looking funny. Noctis finished his bite, lifting the heel of his palm to his lip in search of sauce.

“Hey?” he parroted when his hand came away clean.

“Know what day it is?”

Noctis paused in his chewing, synapses snapping as he fished through his memory. It didn’t take them long to fire together. He grinned, swallowing the meat from his skewer and setting it down on the plate.

“’Course. Think I asked you out this same day. Two years ago.”

“ _You_ asked _me_ out?” Nyx scoffed. “I distinctly remember being the one to ask you to dinner. You wouldn’t have known about this place to suggest it.”

Nyx gestured around the Hut. The little hole in the wall was like a Galahdian secret, only known to the locals and the Kingsglaive who came to Insomnia on the same boat as the owner. Noctis remembered his first order of semur skewers, filling the butterflies in his stomach of being on his first date with the man he’d been crushing on for months.

“I also _distinctly remember_ that I asked you on the actual date. You just suggested the place.”

Nyx chewed on a tomato, squinting at him across the table like he was fully prepared to debate this into the wee hours of the morning. Noctis stood up, pressed his palms to the beer-stained tabletop, and leaned over to kiss him, taking away the remnants taste of aegir root from his lips.

“Let’s not argue on our anniversary.”

Nyx huffed – and Noctis wrinkled his nose at the garlic on his breath – and conceded the point. “Fine. But I still kissed you first. I remember that much.”

“Hm. Can’t recall. Want to pay our bill and remind me… back home?”

Nyx slapped the gil on the table so fast it shook.


	2. Breakfast in Bed

“Damn.”

Nyx stopped in the doorway of his apartment, clutching just enough sense to shut the door behind him before the whole street snuck a peek inside. He didn’t want to share the sight of a bedraggled Prince Noctis, shoveling around the coffee maker in Nyx’s own clothes, with the rest of Insomnia – even if the two of them were the worst kept secret in the city.

Noctis blinked over at him, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter while he waited for the coffee to brew. The percolator guttered and groaned like a failing airship engine, and Noct’s brow clenched with an oncoming headache over it. Still, his preference for silence in the morning had to be sacrificed for the greater good of his first cup of caffeine, if there was to be any hope of feeling marginally human this morning.

“What?” he yawned. “Was I not supposed to make coffee?”

“You beat me to it,” Nyx explained. He lifted the brown paper bag in his hand. “Hoped I could get back with breakfast, and make coffee, before you were out of bed.”

Noct’s tired eyes brightened from a thick fog to a dull gleam, waking up just enough to make his legs move. Right back into bed. “Mission accomplished,” he said, pawing at the air between him and Nyx to beckon him closer. “I’m not out of bed.”

Nyx chuckled, and let Noct burrow into the bag while he went to oversee finishing the coffee. Noctis pulled breakfast from the bag, and made a noise like a wounded animal. Like tearing through the top of his muffin brought him so much pleasure that it felt like agony.

“Is this for our anniversary?” he asked through a mouthful of cinnamon crumble, holding one hand beneath the muffin to catch crumbs before they dirtied Nyx’s bed – though some cinnamon-sugar may have been a sweeter improvement over some of the stains already on it.

“Do I have to have a reason?”

Nyx met Noct’s eyes, growing brighter and more curious with every fluffy mouthful of muffin, like he didn’t trust that breakfast in bed could be in observance of anything short of a special event. Nyx snorted and shook his head, filling two cups with coffee to bring to the bed. He kissed the dark tangles of Noct’s bed-head as he shimmied under the sheets next to him.

“Fine. It’s for our morning after anniversary. Definitely not just because I love you, little brat.”


	3. Celebrations

“Nyx. Our anniversary was _yesterday._ Think we missed the ball on celebrating.”

“It’s cute how you think celebrating my love for you can be confined to a single day.”

Noctis bit his lip to control his smile, lest he start grinning as big as a cartoon jester for the whole of Insomnia to raise their eyebrows at (which, considering all the things people might lift their eyebrows at royalty for, wouldn’t really be such a bad thing). But conserving his happiness was still a hard habit to break, especially when they were in public like this.

Every day seemed like it was a holiday from the perspective of a Galahdian – probably part of the reason Nyx insisted that the day Noctis asked him out should be the day which marked their anniversary; not the day of their first date, or their first kiss, or the day of some other “first” that was more momentous and memorable than Noctis stuttering over a simple question. Today, Noctis wasn’t entirely sure what had Nyx’s home district in such a joyous uproar – an equinox or solstice celebrations, perhaps; Nyx had taught him the importance of sunlight in Galahdian culture. It might have just been the birthday of an elder figurehead in the community; some wizened old woman whose name the world would never know, would never see on any throne, but whose kingdom closed ranks around her with streamers and street food on the date of her birth.

Whatever it was, Nyx lead Noctis through the streets full of orange banners and open grills like the whole thing was put on just for them.

It was easy to be overlooked in the amiable chaos – not that the Crown Prince wasn’t a common sight on the arm of the Kingsglaive’s “Hero” after two years. Still, it was nice to follow the weight of Nyx’s arm over his shoulders without catching double-backed glances for it. It was nice to be an observer, rather than the observed.

Eventually, Nyx wove them down some familiar alleys to the old, decorative railroad lanterns which lit the entrance to his favorite bar – one Noctis knew Libertus was eyeing to invest his future in when he could afford it. It was quieter inside than out in the street, though still warm with reveling bodies clustered around dark, mahogany tables.

Noctis gave Nyx a quizzical look. It was a nice bar, he’d been here with him before, but Nyx knew he wasn’t much of a drinker, and they both had different places they preferred to secret off to when they wanted to celebrate.

“Just one toast to us,” Nyx said over the murmur inside. “Then we can go have some fun.”

Noct’s gaze went from quizzical to skeptical, but he let himself be lead to one of the corner booths. “If you get drunk on me, and I have to drag your ass through the city, this will be our last anniversary.”

“I’m always drunk on you, baby.”

“Nevermind. This is our last anniversary after all.”

Nyx hugged Noctis to his side to prevent his mock escape, calling him a brat while Noctis muttered Nyx was a dork. They ordered two drinks, and toasted to another year of suffering each other’s terrible flirting together.


	4. Doting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A late Day 4 snippet! Reintroducing Drunk Nyx lol

“Thissus not how I wann’ed our ‘versary to go.”

“I know, tiger. It’s alright.”

Nyx made a plaintive sound against Noctis’s shoulder, breath hot and humid with cheap whiskey. _A lot_ of cheap whiskey. “ _One toast,_ ” he’d said. Just one drink to celebrate how far they’d come, and how much farther they would go.

The cozy little bar must have reminded Nyx too much of home. Once he got one taste of his favorite Galahdian whiskey, he regressed back to being twenty-years-old again, feeling comfortable and safe enough to order just one more. Three times. And Noctis didn’t have the heart to stop him, especially not once he started babbling about how happy he was.

“You deserve better,” Nyx moaned now, dropping off of Noctis’s shoulder to land like a stone on his bed. “You’re too nice for me.”

“Mhm, go on. Keep telling me how good I am for you,” Noctis teased, tugging Nyx’s boots off and helping his legs up onto the bed.

Nyx was more than happy to tell him. Noctis had learned early on that the best distraction for Drunk Nyx’s meanderings down self-loathing road were to veer him onto the path of praises. The first time he’d listened to Nyx’s uninhibited adoration, Noctis hadn’t known how to react to it, flustered by the compliments and stuttering over every response as if he were just as drunk as Nyx was. He’d gotten a little bit better at taking the praise as time went on, though every word which slipped off Nyx’s tongue still made his chest burn. Made his cheeks ache with barely restrained smiles. Made his head feel lighter with every, perfect blow to his own self-doubt.

Noctis helped Nyx get settled while he distracted himself with his incoherent rambles about how wonderful Noctis was. Noctis hummed along to each one, fishing the jacket off of Nyx’s shoulders, tugging the bedsheets up to his waist, fitting the pillows against his back, and feeling as warm as if he’d downed the same amount of whiskey himself with all of Nyx’s talk.

He stepped towards the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, but that distance must have been too far for Nyx. He made a distressed noise, hand looping around Noct’s wrist to tug him urgently back to the bed. Noctis stumbled back to the edge of the mattress, Nyx catching him against his chest in a sloppy bear hug.

“Thought you’d want coffee,” Noctis protested, muffled against Nyx’s hot chest.

“Jus’ want you…”

Noctis smiled, sighing in defeat. Sleep would need to sober Nyx instead, then. Noctis was destined to be his sandwich for the rest of the evening, squeezed between his arms and his chest, and nuzzled all over with his ill-aimed kisses and incoherent words of love. Nyx insisted on doting over him, which was fine. There was still the hangover for Noctis to dote over him in return.


	5. Excitement

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“…I think I forgot.”

Noctis swatted his arm, grinning as wide as a cat’s yawn. “You’re such a bullshitter! All that partying in the streets last night. That was for you, wasn’t it?”

Nyx snorted, shaking his head – and immediately regretting it. Even the most minute of movements sent his brain smashing against the inside of his skull like a tub of rocks. He paused, pressed his palm to his face, and waited for the spots behind his eyes to dissipate. He gestured at the cup of off-orange hangover home remedy he’d needed Noctis to whisk up for him because he couldn’t stand up without toppling over into a head-meet-floor-concussion.

Noctis pressed pause on his excitement for just long enough to help the glass into Nyx’s hand, watching him down the questionable combination of hot water, and orange juice, and mashed banana, and a pinch of ginger. No, it did not taste good. Yes, it was helping.

Nyx squeezed his eyes shut as he forced the substance down, waited for it to hit his stomach, shuddered, then looked back at Noctis. He was bursting at the seams, vibrating with excitement, and if Nyx wasn’t so out of it, he would be just as thrilled as he was.

“This is a big deal,” Noctis said, struggling to keep his voice at a moderate level to have mercy on Nyx’s aching skull. “You’ve been working so hard on this.”

Getting approval from the Council had been the hardest part of all. They didn’t like spending more than they had to on people they barely knew. But with enough of the King’s support – and the Prince’s adamant arguing – Nyx had gotten the call that his and Libertus’s proposal for a refugee relief program had finally been approved.

It would be Kingsglaive run, with Nyx and Libertus at the head of it, providing support for struggling immigrants to Lucis that could never get a foothold during the war. Now that the world seemed to be going a little less insane, and Niflheim wasn’t breathing down their necks so hard, there was finally enough space in the Kingsglaive’s budget to give back to those in need.

“It is a big deal,” Nyx said, quietly, smiling at Noct’s bright grin. “But so was our anniversary.”

Noctis took the cup of orange juice from Nyx’s hand to replace it with his own, squeezing calloused fingers between his own. “Think of this as your anniversary present then.”

“Fair. We couldn’t have gotten the approvals without your help, after all.”

Noctis clicked his tongue against his teeth, averting his eyes in dismissal. He always under-estimated the effect he had on the Council’s decisions. Never wanted to take the glory for anything, just wanted things to work. His humility was one of the many reasons Nyx loved him.

He proved it by risking the headache to move forward and kiss his forehead. “Happy anniversary to us both then. I’ll show you my appreciation later… After the hangover.”


	6. Fireworks

“We’re not going to get in trouble for setting these off, right?”

“Dunno. Let’s ask the son of the lawmaker himself! Noct, can we get arrested for this?”

Noctis glared at Crowe. She seemed to enjoy embarrassing him by pointing out how ill-informed he was about the laws his own father was tasked to make. Though he and Nyx both knew it was less about ridiculing him, and more about affirming for herself – and anyone else who may have had doubts – that Noctis was just as average as all the rest of them. Two years into bringing him within their little circle of friends, and the teasing was more like an inside joke than a jab at political ignorance.

“Just don’t aim them at any windows. I’m not covering you for any property damage.”

“There, you see, Pel? We have royal approval. Now, light ‘em up!”

The rooftop of Libertus’s apartment building was wide and clear, plenty of safe space to ignite a few low-range fireworks. It wasn’t like this was the first time the glaives had lit up the skies with their revelry. Crowe was an old pro at “making things go boom.”

“To Nyx and Libs!” she yelled over the sparking tail of the firework she loosed over the district.

The small assemblage of glaives all cheered as the rocket exploded into a shower of yellow sparks overhead, golden stars against a russet, sunset sky. Crowe fired one after the other, snapping her fingers to call up a flame to light each one.

“Do you get the feeling she might be happy?” Nyx said, leaning in close to Noct’s ear so he wouldn’t have to yell over the blasts.

“Just a tiny bit.”

He couldn’t blame her. The program was triumph for Galahdians, relief after a long, arduous residence in an unwelcoming city. The rooftop was laden with spicy, saucy dishes that Libertus spent a whole day cooking, the peppery steam wrapping in with the sting of gunpowder in the air. The night was sizzling with excitement, the back of Noct’s neck damp with the sweat of it. Still, the discomfort of the heat didn’t stop him from flicking magic at the end of his sparkler to make it come to life.

The bloom of white light blinded both him and Nyx, lighting up his glaive’s face in the orange gloom of the evening. He looked utterly content, skin the color of a resting ember beneath the sunset and the fireworks. Noct’s heart swelled for him, kissing the side of his face behind the screen of the sparkler’s noisy little lights.

“You deserve to be this happy,” he told him.

Nyx grinned, and for once, finally, Noctis knew he agreed with him. It was about damn time.


	7. Gifts

“Happy belated anniversary.”

Nyx set a simple, unassuming, brown paper bag in front of Noctis. The handles were tied together in a loose bow of kitchen twine, and ears of slightly yellowed tissue paper crested above the edges. Having lived with a master gift-wrapper for most of his life, Noctis could hear Ignis’s tsk of disapproval as if he were sitting right next to him. Though it may not have been a neatly wrapped box with crisp corners and six-inch ribbon curls, Noctis thought it was beautiful, nonetheless – it was too much like Nyx not to: rough around the edges with the warmest of intentions closed within.

“Just a little something to make up for my less than stellar performance on the day of,” Nyx said as Noctis undid the bow.

Noctis smiled, quirking a brow at Nyx, but didn’t dispute him. As he recalled, Nyx had no trouble “performing” once they left Malbo Smul’s Hut on the night of their anniversary. But if he insisted on giving him a more tangible gift nevertheless, Noctis knew he couldn’t argue with him.

And he certainly couldn’t refuse the adorable, plush creature he pulled up from the tissue paper. It was a small, stuffed carp – intended to be a Lucian Dawn, judging by the rosy color of the cotton. It was the length of his forearm, and just wide enough to be the perfect hugging size. Soft and squishy, and with a little smile sewn across the mouth, Noctis couldn’t contain his coo of delight.

“Apparently, traditional second anniversary gifts in Lucis are supposed to involve cotton,” Nyx explained, grimacing. “I mean, I Moogled it so, maybe it’s not _quite_ right – can’t believe everything you read on the internet…”

“Don’t care. I love it anyway.” Noctis squeezed the plush fish to his chest to prove it, then half-stood from the armchair to kiss Nyx. “It’s so much better than what I’m giving you.”

Nyx blinked in surprise as Noctis withdrew, climbing around the back of his chair to reveal a small, wrapped box – one he’d wrapped himself, though with Ignis’s expert supervision. He’d kept it simple, but elegant – one of Ignis’s rules – in soft-blue paper (as close to the color of Nyx’s eyes as he could find in a dime store bin) and a neat, purple bow, bisecting the box on a diagonal.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything,” Nyx murmured, accepting the package with near reverent delicacy. “And how did you know I was giving you yours today? Who was the narc?”

Noctis shrugged. “Must be part of our soulmate telepathy or something. Don’t question, just open.”

Nyx sighed, acting off-put by the gift, even with the curl of his lips betraying his gratitude. He was gentle with unwrapping the box, to an infuriating degree – Noctis just wanted him to tear the thing open and see what was inside already! The paper covered a palm-sized, black cardboard box, and beneath the lid, settled in gold-foil paper, sat his subpar creation.

“Gladio helped me with the knots,” Noctis said as Nyx picked up the bracelet. “I couldn’t find what a traditional Galahdian anniversary gift would be, but hopefully the braiding means the right thing.”

That much he knew he’d done right, weaving the strips of leather over dark red stones to bind them together in the Galahdian promise of eternal devotion. Nyx’s smile simmered with fondness, feeding the loop between his fingers to inspect the leather braiding that cradled each stone. He was quiet as he admired the piece, and even though Noctis knew he liked it, he felt a sudden wash of self-consciousness color his cheeks.

“I know jewelry isn’t the most… well, _manly_ gift I could give you…”

“Like I give a damn about that,” Nyx snorted, fitting his hand through the loop. “Real men wear sparkly stuff. Especially stuff that their boyfriend put so much thought into. I’ll wear it with pride.”

Nyx smiled at the bracelet for a moment longer, turning his wrist one way, then the other. When he looked back up at Noctis, his gaze was afire with affection, and Noctis felt all the warmth in his face seep down to his chest. Nyx took his chin in his hand, the ruby shine from the stones smoldering in the light, and kissed Noctis back.

“Way better than what I got you,” he murmured against his lips.

Noctis pouted, pulling his cuddly, cotton carp back into his arms. “Bullshit. I’m not giving this little guy up.”

“Guess the symbolism was true,” Nyx chuckled, stroking the little fish. “Cotton for lives intertwined… Didn’t think the fish itself was going to factor into that.”

Noctis smiled, pecking another kiss to his lips. “Guess that means you’re stuck with us.”

“Trapped between a fish and a soft prince. Can’t think of a better place to be stuck, little king.”


	8. Hearth

“A hard won fight calls for a hardy meal,” Nyx declared.

He dumped a store-bought can of soup into the pot with all the bluster of a five-star chef trying to impress a crowd. Though Noctis did his best not to cringe, the wet slap of potato chunks and processed soup broth echoing up from inside the hollow pot was hardly appealing. But given the size of the appetite he’d worked up warping through all those sabertusks, he wasn’t about to complain.

“So, this is what the Kingsglaive considers as a ‘dinner of champions,’” he teased, lightly. “If you ask me, it looks like one more reason I need to advocate for better rations.”

“It looks worse than it tastes,” Nyx promised, stoking the campfire with another gout of flame from his hand. “Besides that, this isn’t even Citadel sanctioned! It’s from the supermarket.”

“Right. Army ration reform first, non-perishable trade inquiries second.”

“I can’t wait until you’re king,” Nyx chuckled.

Noctis smiled like he agreed with him, but in truth, he hoped the Crown could wait for him a little longer. There was still so much more he wanted to do before his royal birthright confined him to the Citadel. It would be even harder to lobby for permission to travel outside the Wall – it was hard enough getting the go-ahead for this little excursion.

This was the most he’d seen of the kingdom he was fated to rule outside of Insomnia, and he knew that there was so much more to it than this scrap of dust called Leide. He’d been allowed to accompany a routine patrol of glaives just beyond the bridge to Insomnia, and that was the limit of his radius. Small in scope though it was, the untamed scrublands of Leide were still so much vaster than the narrow alleys of the city.

The air was dry and clean, the night loud with the discordant symphony of crickets concealed in the grasses. Though reports of daemons were gradually lessening – one more reason it was deemed safe enough for Noctis to leave Insomnia – he could still hear the distant howls of some unknown creature keening across the plains.

He liked it. He liked being able to hear the wind hissing through the sand instead of the mechanical hum of insomniac tires across the highways. He liked the smell of the smoke off the fire, the warmth of it against his face, and he was even starting to like the smell of the soup Nyx had smuggled out to spite the rations committee.

“Hope we didn’t wear you down too much on your first outing,” Nyx was saying, scooping soup into bowls.

“Those dogs were relentless! But I guess you must be used to them, you breezed through the pack like they were nothing.”

“Don’t worry,” Nyx said, folding down to the ground next to him. “I still remember when they weren’t.”

All in all, the soup tasted better warm than it sounded cold. A little more salty than was probably necessary – to satisfy the average Insomnian’s propensity for salty fast food – but satisfying enough. Potatoes and cream, with bits of bacon sprinkled throughout; didn’t get much more filling than that. Noctis had two servings, offering to take Nyx’s bowl to the pot on the second round.

When he passed him back his bowl, Nyx’s sleeve stretched back as he reached up. Noctis smiled when he noticed the bracelet he’d made him for their anniversary, tied securely beneath the cuff of his coat.

“You wear that out on missions like this?” Noctis asked, huddling up to the fire next to Nyx. “Surprised it doesn’t fall apart.”

“Guess your promise is just that strong.”

Noctis felt no small amount of pride over that. He’d wanted the meaning to be lasting, as strong in its ties around the gems as was Nyx’s hold over his heart. Hopefully, it would stand against tougher opponents than a couple sabertusks. The campfire danced within the red stones, as if giving the small token its power.

Yeah. If it made it this far, it was going to last.


	9. Inkling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a day late and hopefully I can get today's up next, too!

“Sure you know where you’re going?”

“I swear to Shiva, if you ask me that _one_ more time…”

Nyx tried and failed to keep himself from smiling at Noct’s expense. He knew it would just annoy him even more if Nyx gave away the fact that he wasn’t asking because he was impatient, but rather because the furrowed brow and irritated pout that came across Noct’s face every time he did was too cute not to instigate.

They hadn’t been driving for very long, anyway – it wasn’t as if the juvenile repetitions of “are we there yet” were warranted. Though he wouldn’t have minded a long drive, either. Especially not when he was in the passenger seat, able to just lean back in the clean leather seat of the Star and watch the city streak by. Dusk glowed between Insomnia’s towers of chrome, the sky a slow bleed of color sinking below the horizon – orange, to purple, to blue, to black.

“Give me a hint, at least?” Nyx prodded.

Noctis spared him half a glance, eyes searching the road for the correct turns and traffic signals. He nibbled his lip, considering what kind of clue he could give him. Nyx nudged him along with a few questions, narrowing down the riddle of their destination himself.

“Are you taking me on a date?”

“Sadly, no. Not this time. Sorry.”

“S’alright… Is it within city limits?”

“’Course.”

“Inside or outside the immigrant district?”

“Mm… On the border.”

Nyx drummed his fingers against the windowsill, scrutinizing the unfamiliar buildings that tumbled from the edges of his own territory. It wasn’t the nicest part of town – comparatively, everything looked like a garula sty against upscale Insomnia – but it looked residential, temperate; kids kicking balls up and down apartment building stoops, homebodies watering flowers in window boxes, families walking to and fro in casual, day-to-day transit.

For the life of him, Nyx couldn’t guess where Noctis was taking him. No amount of questioning could help him figure it out. And when they did eventually arrive to their apparent destination, Nyx was no less confused.

“It’s a fixer upper, for sure,” Noctis said as they exited the car and approached the front façade. “I’ll pay for all the repairs out of pocket. And no, you can’t refuse.”

“Sure, sure,” Nyx said, vacantly. He was trying to puzzle together what in the world could be worth repairing the old, dilapidated building before him. It looked like it might have been an old warehouse or something, low to the ground and built of brick. A few windows were smashed in, graffiti on the walls, just an eyesore for the local teenagers to vandalize. “That’s real generous of you, Noct. But what are you repairing it for?”

“For you. And Libs. And all the people you guys are going to help.”

Nyx glanced at him, searching Noctis’s face for confirmation of what he thought he might be saying. Noctis gave him a wry look, rolling his eyes.

“It’s for your new program, dummy. Housing for the homeless, a kitchen for the hungry. Kind of like a headquarters for you guys to work out of. It’s not big enough to fit everyone who needs help, but I thought it would be a good start.”

Nyx could see it now. He could see new, polished wooden frames for the windows, scrubbed-clean deep red brick walls, smoke from the ventilation shaft as Libertus commandeered cooking for those in need. He could hear the soft murmur of strangers shuffling about inside, hear the language of his people spoken, freely, between them as they exchanged bowls in line, sat on soft furniture to talk, rested well in warm beds as they were welcomed in from the cold.

“Too much?” Noctis asked, hesitating over Nyx’s silence.

Nyx slung an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him hard to his side. “More than enough.”


	10. Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late day, but expect today's by the end of the night, too!

Being the Crown Prince came with no small amount of privileges. Not the least of which included being appraised of breaking news long before it was blasted across the screens of Insomnia. If he wasn’t in the room, being briefed on the latest controversy the media outlets were about to chomp onto in the next day, Cor would call, or Ignis would text, or someone, somehow, would make sure he had fair warning so as not to be blindsided.

He didn’t do them any favors when he silenced his phone and dozed off in Nyx’s apartment, completely oblivious to the blinking red light frantically begging for his acknowledgement. More often than not, if he checked his phone later than the newsfeeds got ahold of a story, it wasn’t the end of the world. Usually, it wasn’t some world-ending scandal about to dethrone his idyllic existence.

And while that still wasn’t the case today… The news across Lucis that day was most certainly life-changing.

Nyx jostled Noctis from his resting place against his shoulder, more abrupt than Noctis was used to. He was still trying to be gentle, Noctis could still feel his care in the urgent press of Nyx’s hand. His voice was riding the edge between calm and careening into hysterics.

Noctis woke up with a jolt, adrenaline chasing the sleep from his limbs. Something was wrong? Something upset Nyx? He needed to be awake, there was an emergency and he needed to be ready… But rather than find fear in Nyx’s eyes when he searched his face for the source of his discontent, Noctis was confused by the conflict of apprehension and joy in Nyx’s gaze.

“Is that really true?”

Nyx gestured at the TV screen. At the big red banner running across the bottom and reading, in big, bold letters, “NILFHEIM SURRENDERS.” The reporter above the banner was wild-eyed, the amount of coffee she must have downed just before the cameras turned on evident in the bags under her eyes. She was talking a mile a minute, almost manic as she struggled to maintain her professional person under the elation the news must have brought her.

“Again, in a completely unprecedented show of submission, Emperor Iedolas of Niflheim announces immediate cessation of hostilities against the Crown City,” she was saying, repeating the script on the monitor as much to convince herself it was true as to convince the rest of the city.

Noctis stumbled for his phone on the trolley coffee table, nearly tripping over Nyx and face-planting as he did so. His screen was bracketed with notifications – dozens of missed calls, text messages, and exclamation points from web journals. His hands shook as he dug through all of them for one number.

One number that he prayed would pick up, on today of all days. One number he’d trained himself to only call for emergencies, because it was often too busy for anything else. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist against his hip as he willed his father to pick up.

“Noctis, where have you been?”

His voice was just as level and diplomatic as ever, a twist of playfulness beneath the steady current of his question.

“Dad? Is this real? Are we _sure_? This is really happening?”

Noctis heard his father inhale on the other end of the line, soft and select. But sure. More certain than Noctis had heard him in a very, _very_ long time.

“Yes, Noct. The war is over.”

_The war is over._ It echoed in Noct’s head like a shot. And he believed it. He believed in his father. Nyx did, too. He was looking at him from across the room, on his feet and flexing his hands like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Like he was ready to punch something if it wasn’t real, or hug Noctis if it was. Noctis barely heard himself say goodbye before he hung up and faced Nyx.

His face must have said it all. Because’s Nyx snapped open into the most disbelieving grin, elation akin to childlike excitement blooming across his features.

“It’s true…” Nyx said, like he couldn’t believe it if he didn’t hear himself say it.

“The war is over,” Noctis repeated his father’s words.

They made him feel like he was high above Eos, the burden of a hundred years dropped off the shoulders of his kingdom. He felt like his feet couldn’t touch the ground, due in no small part to Nyx gathering him up in his arms and lifting him off it in the happiest hug he’d ever felt.


	11. Kisses

It wasn’t _really_ over, of course.

It wouldn’t truly be over for a very long time still.

There were still a lot of challenges ahead of them, a lot of burned bridges that would be harrowing to navigate. There was still a great deal of suspicion, still deep-seated resentments on both sides, and still plenty of stubbornness against conceding to certain demands, too.

The Empire was… contrite in their retreat, but not generous. The politicians would debate the borders and provinces, and commerce and surplus, and treat the people of all the conquered lands like numbers to be divided up and even the scales. There would still be plenty of frustrations and fears, but at least one of those fears had finally abated. Insomnia would never have to live in fear of Imperial airships descending over the Wall.

King Regis promised as much, up on his podium, face gazing out through the plasma screens all across Insomnia. Noctis hadn’t seen him stand so straight since he was very small. He hadn’t seen him smile so strong since he was even smaller. Lucis might have noticed, might have had their doubts about the honesty of such an agreement, but Noctis knew his father better than Lucis knew its king. He knew when he was just telling them what they wanted to hear, and when he was telling them what he knew to be true.

Noctis was barely listening as he stood in line behind the podium, crowded on all sides by people buzzing with excitement and anxiety for the tenuous promise of peace. Dad had gone over the speech with him a number of times already. His brain was on autopilot, scanning the bursting plaza of the Citadel at all the wide-eyed faces, Lucian and Galahdian and all the other scared people who fled to Insomnia for safety beneath the King’s Wall.

“I know many of you have doubts,” Regis said. “I know more of you think it’s too good to be true. I confess that I had the same reservations. But after thorough discussion and negotiating, I can say with confidence that the war with the Imperial army is, in fact, over.”

The whole city seemed to hold its breath. Then, in one collective exhale, people started cheering. Insomnia roared as if it had been asleep for a hundred years of war, and was only just now waking up. Hands were flapping in applause all around him, a flurry of moving sleeves and bright smiles.

He sought out Nyx between them all, finding his arm in the crowd to hold so he didn’t get swallowed up by Insomnia’s joy. Even though Nyx was on duty, meant to scowl and stand in parade rest in the shadow of the king, he and all the other glaives on security couldn’t keep their smiles from breaking beneath their professional veneer.

Black and silver confetti blasted from the stage to shower those gathered in glittered. Hands lifted into the air to catch it, and couples wrapped their arms around each other, kisses exchanged between lovers and families and friends, all rejoicing in the news. Noctis squeezed Nyx’s arm and levered himself up to kiss him. No one was going to notice amidst all this. And even if they did, who cared? They were finally free.

When he felt Nyx kiss back, it was with more earnest openness than he’d ever felt before. He tasted hope on his lips. It tasted like fire. Warm and safe in the hearth of their home, safe at long last.


	12. Lazy Day

“It’s almost scary, in a way,” Nyx mused.

They stared across the city at the shower of midday fireworks. People hadn’t stopped firing them off since the King’s address, a whole twelve hours passed. The night had been its brightest in a thousand years of daemonic darkness, glittering blue and silver and gold, like stars raining over Insomnia. If Noctis reached up his hand, it felt like he could almost touch them, just shy of his fingertips.

But there was danger in touching starlight. The fire of the cosmos was not meant for mortal hands. And in that way, Noctis thought he understood Nyx.

“You think it’s too good to be true?”

“I think I’ve never lived through this many good things at once,” Nyx chuckled, shaking his head like he still couldn’t quite believe it. “Two years celebrated with you, approval for the refugee program, and an end to the war… Something’s going to balance out all that good. I guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Noctis said, resting his head on Nyx’s shoulder. “Just enjoy it.”

If he were to ask Noct, the Prince thought that this right here was the balancing act. Nyx had so much bad happen to him, without any glimmer of good. Maybe this was the balance for all the bad, evening out all of his loss, at long last.

He liked to believe that. He _had_ to believe that.

Though, today, he really didn’t have to do anything. High up on the balconies of the Citadel, where the sky was endless and the fall towards the fireworks was even more infinite, it was quiet, and peaceful, and easy to believe that everything was good. That this laze of post-celebratory feasting and drinking and elation would last in Lucis for as long as it hadn’t. The wind was a slow tug in his hair, the sunrise a warm glow against his face, a promise of better days to come.

He was too content to think about deceit. He was too lazy to come up with better reassurances for Nyx to convince him it was all going to be okay. Though, Nyx didn’t feel very tense beneath Noct’s head. Nyx felt soft, muscles loose beneath his uniform, at ease in a way Noctis hadn’t felt in him before. He felt like he could fall right through him, like he was made of chocobo down – weightless and sweet.

Joy was exhausting sometimes. Neither of them had the energy to put into doubts. When they came down from this high place above the city, maybe then. Noctis would question, have Ignis investigate, grill his father for certainties, be positive, without a shadow of the doubt, that it was all true.

But for now, he trusted that it was. And even when they did come down, he trusted that it would all still be real down on the ground, too.


	13. Moonlight

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Nyx blinked, recalling himself back to the present. He’d let his mind wander through the assemblage of demure diplomats, drifting around the ballroom like figures from a fairytale. It had been a month since the Empire’s concession, a month without any evidence to suggest they would default from it, and Nyx still looked at it all like it wasn’t real.

Noctis was real though, that much Nyx knew for sure. His smile was absolute, a beacon of certainty beaming through the darkness of Nyx’s doubts. Gods, if the Nifs did _anything_ to crush the hope in his face, if they went back on their word…

Nyx mentally shook himself out of it, smiling back at Noctis so he wouldn’t suspect his unease. “You sure this someone’s going to want to meet lil’ ol’ me?”

He’d been standing apart from the party, relegated to his position as security for the event. Which he preferred; it allowed him the space to analyze each guest without distraction, and make certain their attendance to the Citadel was genuine. Besides that, he couldn’t image himself – lowborn, Galahdian immigrant glaive – being welcomed into mingling with the upper class gentry of Eos, dizzy on champagne bubbles and arapaima roe.

Noctis took his hand and tugged him from his post. “I’m sure,” he said.

The party was winding down, anyway. The moon had risen high above the Wall, still an iridescent shield over Insomnia – a small reassurance that Nyx wasn’t alone in his anxiety. The night was waning into a lucid lull, at ease beneath the lavender filter of moonlight through the Wall.

Maybe it was that same light which made the woman Noctis led him to look so otherworldly. Maybe Nyx was still stuck in the idea that this was all a dream. Whatever the case, the serene smile of the stranger, in her silver gown of spun starlight, was so soft beneath the moonlight that the whole mirage felt far too delicate to withstand reality.

Once Nyx realized she was, in fact, real, drawing together details he could only craft through imagination and word of mouth, he knew exactly who she was before Noctis even said her name.

“This is my old friend Luna, from Tenebrae,” he said, brimming with barely concealed excitement. “And this is Nyx, my boyfriend.”

Noctis introduced him with such confidence, such trust in how Luna would react to the label. It spoke mountains of his faith in her, a faith Nyx could only have imagined in the two years of reminiscing Noctis did about her. Of course he knew about Luna. And that should have made figuring out how to address her a little easier. And yet, Nyx was at a loss.

Should he bow, like he was expected to beneath someone of her position? Should he play it casual, like he did with most of Noct’s friends? Or would she be off-put by that, being as it was the first time they’d met? It wasn’t like he saw her around the Citadel every day like the others, not like he’d had years to build up a teasing rapport in passing with the Prince’s retinue in their transit through the tower.

Luna crossed that bridge for the both of them, extending a hand out between them to shake. She kept on her smile of diplomatic grace, but the haste in the gesture suggested the same, humble awkwardness Nyx felt, too.

“It’s an honor to meet you, face to face,” she said. “With how much Noctis has written of you over the years, I feel as if we’ve already met.”

Relief seeped in as the tension in Nyx’s shoulders seeped out. He took her hand and squeezed, gently, in greeting. “Likewise, Your Highness. Feels like I’m meeting an old friend.”

Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but he thought her perfectly controlled smile might have stretched just a little bit bigger at that.


	14. New Year

“This is shaping up to be a pretty good year, I have to admit.”

“That mean you’re convinced it’s all real, finally?”

Nyx pressed his lips together in a smile he probably shouldn’t have. He should probably not have confessed to having hope for the New Year, thereby jinxing his good luck. But he couldn’t help it. How could anyone in Lucis hold back how happy they were, going into the next year? How could he, especially, hold back the gratitude he felt for all the good things that had been bestowed upon him?

He wasn’t a devout believer in the Hexatheon. His beliefs were the ones considered by the Cosmogony as “superstitious.” But whichever entities truly deserved to reside above the stars, he was grateful for whomever of their ranks deemed him worthy of this redemption.

Though, he was more eager to lay the credit on a more terrestrial being.

Noctis held his hand through the countdown from one year to the next. A lot had happened in a few, short months to lay the foundations of the New Year. A lot of change was coming for Lucis, change for the better. But as much as things were changing, one thing remained constant.

Nyx leaned down to kiss through Noct’s soft, raven tufts of hair, pressing his lips to the crown of his forehead, just as the last second to midnight passed.

“I love you,” he said over the thunderous rise of cheers from all sides of the city. “So much.”

Noctis never seemed to have any trouble hearing him, smiling just as Nyx’s neighbors started firing off their rockets of Galahdian violet into the sky. The Prince could have spent New Year’s anywhere. He was expected to, his presence vied for by dozens of invitations to elegant parties at the tops of Insomnia’s glittering, glass towers. But instead, Noctis choose to spend his nights at the bottom, down where his people were; where Nyx was, on the low, dingy rooftop of his apartment building, trading champagne for cheap beer, and caviar for fried fish skewers.

“Love you too, hero,” Noctis said, kissing him on the lips before the last toll of midnight passed without a proper one.

Nyx wanted to define this year with love, just like this. Too many had passed in bitterness and uncertainty. At long last, his heart didn’t feel as heavy as it did when the clock struck twelve. This year, instead of feeling trapped by his failings in the past, he felt like he actually belonged in the future.

Right alongside Noct.


	15. Open

A lot of people liked to credit this as solely Nyx’s and Libertus’s achievement. Nyx supposed it was just easier to fit two names on all of the necessary contracts than it was to fit the small army’s worth of donors to the cause.

Relief for Insomnia’s refugees had been a collective endeavor by a sizable portion of the Kingsglaive, funding for the project coming out of more than just two pockets. And yet, even the people volunteering parts of their paychecks to the cause were content to raise a bottle solely to Nyx and Libertus.

It was their brainchild after all. It was the two of them who lobbied for the thing against a hesitant Council, them who hit the streets for support, whether it be in donations or just in voice. It was them who glared down the dissenters and entreated with the altruistic.

They’d done a lot, but they hadn’t done it all. Nyx could attribute every single one of those assembled in the mess hall with aiding the effort; his brothers-in-arms, his nine-to-five working neighbors, even a handful of Lucian sympathizers with a righteous need to see fairness succeed. Noctis was one of those Lucians, hugged protectively beneath Crowe’s arm so she didn’t lose him in the crowd.

Renovations on the warehouse had completed quicker than Nyx could have ever expected. Even amidst all the news about Niflheim, construction had gone on tirelessly for the past few months, breaking only for the holidays. And before they all knew it, the building had been transformed from a derelict old ramshackle to a place of comfort and safety.

The walls were bright and clean, windows tall and clear, the space inside bright with sunlight and modern light fixtures striped across the ceiling. Beds were fully furnished, lined neatly across the open floor, a stone hearth against the far wall meant to warm the place in winter, and give visitors a sense of homeliness they didn’t have.

It also served to mark the building’s name.

Libertus lifted his bottle of beer to the hearth, directing the crowd’s bottles in a toast. He said, “To the Hearth & Home Halfway House! We’re officially open!”

A deep cheer followed, then bottles clicked, and libation went down, and people smiled and talked and told each other everyone they hoped would find their way to the shelter. It was more than just a temporary home, though. There were programs in place to help those in need find places of their own, programs to help find jobs for the unemployed, programs that Nyx nor Libertus could take any credit for keeping open.

All the behind the scenes things, the stuff behind the paperwork and red tape that the Glaive didn’t understand nearly as well as they did feeding and sheltering their people, was all thanks to Noct.

“It’s a group effort,” Noctis mumbled when Nyx tried to show his gratitude later, propped on one of the beds to watch Libertus test out the new kitchen on the party. “I’m just keeping the vultures off your backs so you guys can work, is all.”

“That’s plenty of hard work, in-and-of-itself.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, but he didn’t disagree. He and Nyx both knew how convoluted things involving the Council’s stamp of approval could get. Noct’s involvement helped simplify matters. He protected them from loopholes and exploits that any greedy hands might try to touch when they weren’t paying attention.

For that Nyx was grateful. And he knew his people would be, too. He hoped to change lives with this place, make right the wrongs of the past and help his people step into the future.

A cup of Libertus’s sirloin stew to share was a damn good start.


	16. Picturesque

“Damn… What a view.”

He’d thought that Leide – dusty old bowl of derelict farmhouses though it may have been – was beautiful, at least in its own right.

But Duscae… Duscae was breathtaking by comparison.

The dry, sun-baked earth of Leide fed into the thick, verdant grasses of the Duscaen wilderness. From where he stood on the hillside, just inside the guardrail, Noctis could see dense clusters of woodlands marking the feet of mountains and backing the big watering hole where the catoblepas waded. Every step taken by the ivory giants was like distant thunder, sending shockwaves of ripples across the pond. The famed, stone arches reached high across the grasslands, like fossilized serpents weaving against the horizon.

And in that far-off horizon, was the pulsing blue heartbeat of Duscae. Jagged spears of meteor rock scraped the skyline, the preternatural hum from the Disc vibrating through every blade of grass. Legend stated that the sound was the snoring of the great Astral, Titan, who rested within the crater, bearing the weight of the meteor on his shoulders.

Noctis could barely see said meteor, let alone any fabled Astral, through the great, golden beams of sunlight framed beneath the arches. Sunset was just descending beneath the hills, washing Duscae in shadows of rich, amber light.

Yes, the view was indeed breathtaking. And he wasn’t even biased by the fact Nyx, standing against it, made it even more so.

“I keep forgetting you’re not used to this,” Nyx chuckled, skin a warm brown in the shadows cast by the sunset. “How about you take a picture? Break in that camera Prompto gave you.”

Noctis shook his head, gazing out at the plains for one more moment. “Nah,” he said. “Just want to savor this.”

Nyx smiled, turning his face back towards the sun. They watched the shadows grow for a little longer, tasting the chill of nighttime start to bleed into the warm, earthen fragrance of the day. While there was little to fear in the night anymore, people were still wary about wandering Lucis after dark. Which was why Nyx had rented them the caravan for the night – if not for protection, then just to have a place to put their feet up after the long drive.

“What do you say we grab some good ol’ greasy fast food?” Nyx said to cut the silence, swinging an arm over Noctis’s shoulders to guide him back to the lights of Coernix Station. “I’m in the mood for Kenny’s fries. Maybe make a toast with two Jetty's.”

“Toast?” Noctis laughed. “The hell are we celebrating this time?”

“For making it this far!” Nyx said, as if driving a straight line from Insomnia to Coernix Station was some sort of harrowing feat. “This is the farthest you’ve made it into Lucis in the past, what, twelve years? I’d say that’s worth commemorating.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be directed into the diner. There was no shortage of celebrations going on across Lucis, not the least of which included this little “victory lap” – as Nyx liked to call it – through Lucis. Without the Empire patrolling the skies, the forts and blockades slowly being decommissioned, and reports of daemons growing less and less as the days went on, “ _Lucis is finally looking like the one I remember,”_ Regis had said, before giving him his blessing to travel beyond the borders of the Crown City.

“ _Besides,_ ” he’d added. “ _You’ll have Nyx with you.”_ As if that was all the assurance in the world he needed to know Noctis would be safe.

With Nyx’s arm around his shoulders in the diner booth, sharing salty fries and clinking together the bottlenecks of sugary soda as the night crept over Duscae, Noctis was inclined to agree.


	17. Quiet

“You got all that for five bucks?”

“Told you so. Would have cost me double in Insomnia... Which, yeah, is still cheap, but c’mon. It’s not five gil cheap.”

Noctis wasn’t sure how exactly that worked – he probably should know; it sounded like something Ignis might have taught him in their economics lessons – but right now, he didn’t need to care. Because Nyx had a bag of marshmallows tucked under one arm, with a box of store-brand graham crackers and chocolate bars under the other to go with it. The only other ingredient they were missing now was an open flame.

Nyx set the ingredients on the counter and turned the dial on the little stovetop. The gas burner ignited without issue, filling the caravan with a muffled, blue-orange warmth. Noctis started airing out the small space, cracking open the tiny windows to trade the smell of gas for the smell of… well, more gas from the station outside. Along with a little trickle of burning grease from the diner’s fryers, and the smell of damp soil and grass swelling up from Alstor Slough in the overcast night.

“Man. I can’t believe how quiet things are out here,” Noctis said as he sat back down.

He’d noted the distinct silence across the flatlands of Leide during his last outing with Nyx, and he enjoyed the silence drifting through Duscae now even more. Frogs chirped in chorus amidst the grasses and reeds around the lake, crickets sang through the brush like dry paper hissing on the wind, and he even heard owls hooting from the pines. No cars passed by on the long and winding road, any travelers through the night all parked neatly out in the lot.

For the first time in months, Noctis finally felt like he was coming down from a long high, landing gently in the cradle of Duscae. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, celebration after celebration for some good news or another, that he hadn’t really had the chance yet to just lay down and let it all seep into him. Let it all settle and solidify from its incandescent feelings of joy to something more tangible. Something constant he could feel in his bones, anchoring in him that all the changes were taking hold, and that he wasn’t going to lose them like the cork of a champagne bottle, rocketing out of his reach.

Sometimes the aftermath of the revelry was the best part of it all. Bittersweet that it was over, but grounding, and certain that something had stayed behind which had been worth celebrating in the first place.

“Some of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever had have been out on patrol here,” Nyx said, turning two marshmallows over the stovetop. “But first, something sweet before bedtime.”

Nyx assembled the s’mores on paper plates and handed one to Noctis. Whatever the reasons for his sudden s’mores craving, Noctis wasn’t about to refuse melted sugar puffs on a bed of equally melted chocolate. It was hot and gooey and it tasted like a home Noctis never really had, but always wanted.

A glob of marshmallow got stuck in Nyx’s beard, and as he was muttering curses to himself and making Noctis laughed, he hoped that the future peace across the land meant things would always be this simple. Instead of clinking glasses under televised applause, he hoped for more s’mores shared in silence under the starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to slip behind on these, but I'm gonna catch up by weekend's end!


	18. Reason

Noctis woke up to warm kisses against his neck. Crammed together in the narrow bunk of the caravan brooked little in the way of escape from Nyx’s lazy onslaught… Not that Noctis had any intention of trying to get away.

“This another one of your little celebrations?” he mumbled up from the pillow, eyes still cemented shut.

“Don’t make me think of a reason this early in the morning,” Nyx grumbled, voice heavy and slurred with sleep where it hummed against Noctis’s throat.

“Is it really that early?”

Noctis pried one eye open, squinting and blinking at the caravan wall until the fog of slumber parted from his vision. The little window above the bed, with its shade pulled back by half, was cracked open to invite morning inside. Pale yellow sunlight bloomed from behind the glass, the songs of dawn birds lifting up from the Slough. He heard the murmur of tires pulling into Coernix Station, the subdued voices of locals greeting each other with “good morning”s.

A prickle of excitement helped wake Noctis up enough to open both eyes. He never woke up this early, and for once, he was glad that he did. It meant more time to explore Duscae! More daylight to travel by, and see everything about his country he’d been missing out on under the Imperial occupation. He was ready to see it all… If he could just convince Nyx to stop kissing him… If he could convince _himself_ to convince Nyx to stop kissing him.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to spend the entire trip stuck in here,” Noctis said.

“Would that really be such a bad thing?”

Of course not, but Noctis bit back the smile agreeing with that. It was a tough choice, taking advantage of the early hour to get out and explore, or indulging in it by letting Nyx have his way.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather grab some of Kenny’s crappy coffee and hit the road?” Noctis tried again.

He twisted his head around to see Nyx scrunch his nose up in disgust. “I’d much rather have you for breakfast. What was it you said yesterday? I’m just savoring the moment. There, you wanted a reason.”

Noctis snorted, shimmying around in the tiny space to face Nyx. This was quite the role-reversal. Rare were the days where Noctis woke up more prepared to face the day than Nyx was. Rarer were the slow, sleepy blinks of bleary gray eyes, and the utter stillness of surrender. For once, Nyx had nowhere else he had to be, no urgent call to arms he had to answer, no dawn guard to relieve, nothing.

Noctis sighed through his nose and snuggled up against Nyx’s chest, tucking himself beneath his chin. “Fine. Just a little while longer.”

Nyx hummed, content as a coeurl warming his belly on sun-baked stones. The wildlife would still be there when Nyx was ready to see it. For once, there was no reason to rush.


	19. Surprise

“Surprise!”

There were a few things Noctis hadn’t been expecting out of this trip. One thing being that he never expected it to last long enough for them to make it all the way out to Cape Caem. He wasn’t even sure they were allowed to go out that far yet. Besides that, he didn’t want to keep Nyx out of the city for too long, either. While Libertus was perfectly capable of running the refugee center himself for a little while, Noctis didn’t want to keep Nyx away from his proudest achievement.

They’d allotted themselves five days to circle Duscae, to see the catoblepas and the arches and the chocobo post in the woods. Noctis hadn’t even expected they’d have time to hit all the spots they wanted to, so distracted was he by how unexpectedly breathtaking it all was. Caem had been last on the list, a postscript “maybe” at the end of the itinerary. He never expected to make it, not on this trip at least.

And he certainly never expected a full party of friends to be waiting for them in the raggedy old shack at the top of the hill.

The click of Prompto’s camera immortalized the prince’s stunned expression for the rest of time, frozen in the doorway as he tried to register what the heck was happening. There was Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis, striding to and from the small kitchen with a buffet of dishes to set on the table. Iris burst with the loudest “surprise!” of them all, startling Luna beside her into a fit of laughter.

“You’re not the only one allowed out of the Crown City,” Gladio said when Noctis blinked himself out of being stunned.

“Your father sends his regards,” Ignis added, sitting a tray of warm, familiar pastries at the center of the table. “He was going to come, but decided he didn’t want to ‘cramp you kids’ style.’”

Nyx laughed outright at Noct’s shoulder. “Oh please. His Majesty has more style than any of us put together. He’s gotta know that.”

“Fortunately,” Luna piped up, materializing at Noct’s arm to help inside before he glued himself there forever. “There will be plenty of opportunities to invite your father out here in the future.”

“Was this your idea?” Noctis asked her, blinking owlishly at the fragrant tartlets already beckoning him to taste.

When she didn’t reply, Noctis dragged his hungry gaze away from the table to catch the look on her face. A look of deadpan obviousness aimed right between him and Nyx. Noctis felt his cheeks warm at the realization. He really had told her enough about Nyx that she knew almost better than him what he was capable of.

While everyone vied for seats at the table, congratulating Ignis on a job well done before any of them took the first bite, Noctis snuck a hand into Nyx’s to pull him aside in a kiss. Small and chaste and private in the corner of the kitchen.

“Who ratted me out?” Nyx chuckled. “I wanted to stay uncredited.”

“Shut up and accept the thanks.”

Nyx kissed him back a little more ardently at the command. “As you wish, Highness.”


	20. Time

“You know what we need?”

“A second stomach shared between us?”

Noctis laughed, lightly, too full and tired and content to put much energy into it. He definitely needed that, though; he’d needed that since he moved into the same apartment with Ignis. There had never been enough room for sampling all of Iggy’s experiments in the kitchen. And there had definitely not been enough room in his stomach for everything he’d wanted to try at his surprise buffet.

Between the perfected pastries of Tenebrae, the steamed and spiced darkshells from the bay, and the crab-stuffed dumplings so meticulously made that Noctis had to wonder how long they’d been planning this surprise, he was exhausted just from trying not to burst. He could barely fit the last dregs of the beer bottle shared between the two of them now.

“That too,” he said, taking one last, numb sip before passing the bottle back to Nyx. “But what we really need is a hammock.”

“Ah. You want island time.”

“Mmm, yeah. That’s what we need.”

Even without the white beaches and palm trees of a luxurious resort, Noctis still felt like he was on island time. He felt like everything was slower here, sitting on the deck of the house on Nyx’s lap, watching the sun escape into the sea below. The water sprayed white against the rocks, a quiet lather dragging sand and shells from the tide-pools. The sound of the gulls slowly receding from the coming night, the murmur of voices in the shack, the warmth of revelry and good food and beer that he never really liked, making his insides feel as smooth as velvet.

It was the magic of that post-celebratory haze again, gently settling down from the surprise of an impromptu get-together. It slowed down time, made the sunset last a little longer than normal, brought this quiet, drunken, heady moment to an effortless halt.

Nyx sighed against the back of his neck, almost sounding like a snore. He was sprawled against the old lawn chair they’d found, sloppily holding onto Noct to keep them both from falling out, arms linked loosely around his waist with his cheek scratching against Noct’s cheek.

“Take it from someone who grew up on an island,” he said, drowsily. “This is definitely what it feels like.”

“Paradise?”

“Yeah. Definitely, yeah.”

They were both nodding off to sleep, hypnotized by the rhythm of the waves and the cloying fatigue of eating too much and talking too much and drinking just enough. Noctis didn’t want to fall asleep for once. He just wanted to sit there, head in his hand, Nyx’s head on his, and watch the sea breathe under the sunset forever. Though time moved on at the same pace it always did, when he did eventually doze off, it had certainly felt like forever.


	21. Uninhibited

Noctis felt… drunk, honestly. He hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time – he actively avoided it; the consequences on his stomach just weren’t worth it – and he wasn’t now, but it was the closest feeling he had to compare this to.

They had borrowed Crowe’s motorcycle when they set out from Insomnia, Noctis thinking it was just going to be the two of them coming back. Nyx followed the taillights of the Crown City car Noct’s friends had taken, trailing leisurely along the road as Caem slowly shrunk behind them. The ocean glittered like a bed of sapphires under the noonday sun below, the road home hugging the cliffside.

The sea smell blasted up along the road, filling Noct’s helmet as he held onto Nyx. He watched the sea slip by, an endless conveyer of blue, with the lighthouse in the distance, waving good-bye and standing tall with the promise that it would be there for them to return to.

Maybe it was the lingering sensation from the night before that padded Noct’s head with this drunken-like stupor. Maybe it was the dizzying height from the road to the sea, or the endlessness of that sea, encouraging him to break down his limitations.

Maybe he’d never been this utterly content before. With no worries about the future, about the war and the effect it had on his father, on the fighting Nyx wouldn’t have to do anymore.

He’d said he loved him a thousand times before. And yet, somehow, this one felt different. Like there was nothing left in the world holding him back.

He squeezed his arms around Nyx’s waist a little tighter, seeing his helmet tilt just slightly in acknowledgment, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Hey!” Noctis called over the wind and the salt from the sea below.

“Yeah?” Nyx called back.

He released it like a kite along the beach, untethered and free, loosing it to the sky unafraid that the warships might catch it instead of Nyx. It almost felt like it was the first time he’d ever said it, with only the wild and the ocean and Nyx to hear it.

“I love you!”

Nyx revved the engine three times in reply – I, love, and you.


	22. Voracious

Today, Noctis just felt like celebrating Nyx.

He felt like lingering in the corner and lavishing silent, invisible accolades on his boyfriend while the halfway house breathed with activity around him. He threw his own, private party for him in his head, applauding the work he was doing across the room with all the praise owed to a saint seeking relief for everyone but himself.

Nyx was helping Libertus ferry along the soup line, braids tying back his hair from his neck in a rough bun, the wild, pulled-back strands defining the shaved sides of his head. He’d rolled his sleeves to the elbows, an accordion of maroon fabric gathered in the crooks of his arms.

Noctis was grateful for the building being so busy. People were less likely to notice him staring at the bronzed brace of his arms against the counter. At the delicate stitches of ink binding his skin with the honor of his homeland. At the silly bracelet Noctis had made him for their anniversary, drawn into a safe knot around his wrist as Nyx ladled soup into bowls with the same deft acuity as he wielded his kukris on the battlefield.

He put himself to this simple task with the same voracity he committed to protecting his comrades out in the field. Noctis saw glints of his blades in his eyes as he smiled at strangers and helped fill their bowls. Noctis saw the same insatiable yearning to be a real hero in whatever way he could. With the war all but ended, and the threats along their borders lessening every day, there were less occasions for him to find his redemption with his swords. Now, he had to find it in the simpler things. Sometimes those were even harder.

But he looked every bit the picture of a hero to Noctis here, in the slow humility of the Hearth & Home, as he did bursting through daemons like sparks of star-fire. And while things around the house were meandering and easy, the longer Noctis watched him, celebrating all Nyx had accomplished in his head, the more he felt the energy like a warzone rising in his chest.

He felt the hunger of loving him too much gluttonously beating around his heart like his head against a wall. He felt his skin tickle beneath his sleeves, nails nursing against his elbows to remind himself to stay present.

Hard to do when all he could think about was the very near future when Nyx caught his eye from across the room. He thought of taking his hand and marching out the back door, fleeing to the backseats of his car for an hour and celebrating every inch of Nyx he could reach in the tight space.

When Nyx smiled at him, light and crooked and curious, that near future rushed up to right now.


	23. Whisked Away

Another day, another party being hosted in the heart of the Citadel.

Nyx had no idea what this one was for. He never did. Even before the Empire’s concession – and after there really was something worth celebrating – the royal add-ons always found an excuse to fill the Citadel with prestigious people and pricey hors d’oeuvres. They stopped being glamorous and exciting after the, oh, he couldn’t remember, tenth one he had to work security for. He’d worked a hundred more since.

While it numbed the brain – and locked up the backs of his knees – Nyx could appreciate a good party, even if he didn’t understand what it was they were celebrating. They never needed much of a reason back on Galahd, either. While the food might have been fancier here in Lucis, the principle was still the same.

Though, by the look on Noct’s face across the room, Insomnia could stuff its principles.

After a hundred galas like these, Nyx knew Noct’s cues begging him for escape better than he could read a clock. And he had whisking him out from under the pawing attentions of Altissian socialites down like clockwork, too.

A touch to his earpiece, covering his station; a measured loop around the perimeter, scanning for his exit; a step to Noct’s shoulder, a duck of his head in his ear, a smile from the Prince to excuse his departure, and they were out of there.

“I thought that most of the world knew you were spoken for,” Nyx teased later, when they’d made their escape a few floors above the festivities.

“Lucis does. But that’s not the whole world… contrary to what some of the Council might think.”

Nyx laughed, exchanging the bottle of wine they’d pilfered from the buffet table for Noct’s hand in his. He gazed out at the city from their seat on the balcony, a net of plexi-glass and LED lights, keeping up with the notable dignitaries shuttered away inside.

“Y’know, there’s an easy way to keep the flirts at bay,” Nyx said, running his thumb along Noct’s finger, just at the base.

“With a big riot shield that says ‘I have a boyfriend?’”

“Better yet… You could have a husband.”

Noctis paused mid-swig from the wine bottle, glancing, narrow-eyed, at Nyx. Like he wasn’t sure he was joking or not. “You… would be up for that?”

“What do you mean, ‘would I be up for that?’” Nyx chuckled, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “We’re way past the boyfriends stage, don’t you think? Marriage is just a piece of paper at this point.”

Noctis looked pale in the wintery light rising from the city. And for one horrifying moment, Nyx thought he’d done this wrong. They’d never talked about getting married before. There never seemed to be a reason to. They were perfect the way they are, with or without it, it didn’t matter either way to him. But did it matter to Noctis? Did it mean something to him that it didn’t to Nyx?

He should take it back. He should brush it off as the joke he half-intended it to be, only meant to tease the idea out before deciding if they should take the plunge. He held Noct’s hand harder than he meant to, afraid that if he let go for a second he was going to lose him.

But if he thought the paleness in Noct’s face was fright, the embrace the Prince enclosed him with a moment later proved otherwise. Like he had every intention of holding onto Nyx forever, marriage vows and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I wasn't gonna do a marriage proposal... but like c'mon


	24. Xs & Os

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 24's prompt was a wild card! So here's some ridiculous friends being happy for each other~

“Libs.”

“Nyx?”

“Be the best man at my wedding?”

“Last I checked, my dibs haven’t been contested. Why? Plan on getting hitched sometime soon?”

Libertus chuckled as he wiped down the counter. They’d been teasing each other about their future wedding days since they were sixteen, crushing on blitzball players and fashion models in magazines – when they had no idea what love was. Even after they’d grown up, and any dreams of having a happy ending got buried beneath the ashes of their homeland, they still teased. In the backs of those vans, on the benches after training, over drinks at the Hut, every once in a while they’d be drunk enough on cheap beer, adrenaline, or grief to joke about a future they never expected to see, trying to lighten the load of the day’s burdens.

Libertus paused when he didn’t hear Nyx laughing along with him. He turned around to look at him, and found his old friend smiling. Not in the least bit joking. The damp dish rag made a too-loud slap against the counter as he dropped it in the silence.

“No shit?”

“Shit yeah.”

He knew Nyx wasn’t joking. This was the one part of their happy little fantasies that they never teased about. If he told him he was getting married, he damn well meant he was getting married. Nyx had wanted a true love in life more than Libertus ever had. He’d stopped looking for it after Galahd.

_You know what they say,_ Libertus thought, looking at him now. _The second you stop looking for it is when it seems to find you._

Libertus walked around the counter and dragged Nyx off the stool in a big bear hug. Nyx wheezed, fishing his arms out from under Libertus’s to hug back.

“Ah crap. What happened?”

Crowe was just walking in, pausing in the doorway like an anak in headlights, ready to run. She’d learned to distrust shows of affection as means of consolation in the wake of travesty. Libertus kept one arm around Nyx to keep him from escaping and waved her over to join the hug.

“He’s getting married!”

“No shit!”

He’d be getting married, sure, but only if Crowe and Libertus didn’t smother him to death with hugs and kisses first before he made it to the altar.


	25. "Yes!"

“Yes! Score one more for Prompto!”

He pumped his fist in the air and trotted a circle around the couch, holding his controller aloft like a victory torch. Gladio applauded his circuit with a deadpan slow-clap, of which Prompto bowed to as if it were a thunderous stadium’s worth of applause.

“I’m on fire today!” Prompto crowed, bouncing back down to the couch to ready himself for the next round.

“Noct,” Gladio grouched. “C’mon. Where’s your head at? I had money riding on you for the last two rounds.”

Ignis cleared his throat, now that Gladio had brought it up. Coins clinked between hands, and Ignis was now a day of city bus fare richer. “You were overdue for some losses,” Ignis told him. “Though, Noct. I rather expected you would put up at least a bit of a fight.”

“Put your head in the game, man!” Prompto said, slapping him in the shoulder. “Give me a challenge! You’re making this way too easy.”

Noctis smiled, too distracted by the casual comfort of being among his friends to focus on the game. It was always easy to get them all together in one room, but it was hard to focus on what he wanted to say, and why he’d gathered them to his apartment in the first place.

Ignis – ever the observant, ever the vigilant; ever the almost supernaturally acclimated to the atoms of Noct’s emotional status – called the attention for him. “Noct, is something the matter?”

Prompto paused the game before the next round could start up. Gladio sat up straighter in his chair. And Noctis could have laughed at how serious they suddenly all looked, ready to fight whatever was “the matter” with him. That snap-to devotion is what made deciding between the three of them so hard.

“No,” Noctis said, purposefully light. “Nothing’s wrong. Just having trouble coming to a decision, is all.”

“Decision over what?” Gladio asked, brow lifting the scar over his eye. A badge of honor for all he’d done to protect Noctis. And maybe a reminder of why it should be him standing at his side?

But then there was the evidence of Iggy’s and Prompto’s worthiness, too. The nearly psychic link between him and Specs, leading Ignis around the kitchen in search of snacks to help buoy whatever this mysterious decision of his might be. The orbital connection between him and Prompto, his friend sidling ever so slightly closer to Noct’s space in case he needed a hug to get through this. These little things just made picking between them that much harder.

Noctis cleared his throat, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck and looking down at the coffee table, playing it off as casually as he could. “Well, I’m getting married soon. Kinda need a best man for it.”

For a second, it was as if all sound had been suctioned straight out of the room as his three friends stalled over what he’d just said. The processing happened almost simultaneously, their faces changing from stunned to ecstatic in a second.

“I’ll have to be your best man,” Gladio declared. “Because Prompto needs to be the official royal wedding photographer. And you know Iggy’s got to be in charge of the cake.”

“It won’t be a cake,” Ignis said, already pacing the kitchen with ideas. “A galette of some sort, or perhaps a croquembouche… something that marries both Lucian style and Galahdian flavor.”

Noctis snorted. “I could be marrying an Altissian for all you know!”

Prompto threw the plush fish that often occupied the couch since its inception into the apartment at his face. “Oh please! Like you’re not gonna marry the guy that gave you a fish for your anniversary. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.”

Noctis caught the little stuffed animal, thoughtfully selected for its material in the Lucian tradition of giving cotton on the second anniversary. It was supposed to be for wedding anniversaries. Guess Nyx just couldn’t wait to be married when he gave it to him. Neither could Noct.


	26. Zeal

“It’ll be a private ceremony. Close friends and family. In the northeast gardens, I think. The Lucis roses are in bloom. Blue and black color scheme, accents of violet. Live music, I’ll have Clarus comb for an authentic Galahdian sitar player. I’ll handle the public reaction myself, look for a respectable broadcaster for the day of the event. Subtle, tasteful, won’t be in the way. I think I still have a few favors I can all on for the Altissia Broadcasting Company…”

“Dad, I thought you didn’t drink coffee.”

“Only espresso, son. Anything less is just pretending.”

Ah. That explained it. Noctis couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his father talk so much. Let alone the last conversation he’d had with him that had gone on this long, uninterrupted. There was always something that came between them: some courier with pressing news, a Crownsguard with a covert update, a call to the Council for an emergency meeting. Things were always cute too short.

But now, with Niflheim out of the picture, and the strains of war lessening on his father’s weary soul, there was nothing to hold Regis back from planning his son’s wedding with all the zeal of a toddler set loose in a candy store.

Noctis found it all very flustering. Nyx found it all very entertaining. He sat with his hand in Noct’s as King Regis hobbled back and forth in front of the fireplace, vocally going through his mental checklist of Noct’s wedding like he’d had it planned since the day he was born. It was almost maniacal, nearly hysterical, making sure everything would be perfect. Like he had never expected to live to see the day his son would marry the love of his life.

“This is why I never brought it up,” Noctis said under his breath to Nyx.

They would have been married years ago if not for the happy panic of the royal household they had to endure now. But Nyx didn’t mind. Nyx preferred it this way. It was so _normal_ , not at all like the formal, serious preparations he might have feared for a royal wedding. It was more like how people in his town got married, with the whole village racing from one building to the next to correspond over color swatches and flavor profiles and making sure so-and-so wasn’t seated by so-and-so and that uncle what’s-his-name was sailing in from Cavaugh on time.

At some point in Regis’s rambling, he stopped to plant both hands on Noct’s shoulders, stare at him for a moment, and drag him into a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re _getting married,_ ” he said, as if Noctis didn’t already know that. “During _peacetime_ , no less! You have no idea, none at all, how happy I am for you.”

Noctis gave Nyx a stricken look over his father’s shoulder while Regis hugged the life out of him. If Noctis had no idea how happy Regis was for him, Nyx had a pretty good idea.


	27. Wedding Countdown: Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompts for the last few days of the challenge, so we're freestylin' it! Keeping with the New Year's theme, we're just counting down the last few days!

“You can do that?”

“Of course!”

“Like legally? Officially? You have a license for this or something?”

Luna waved her hand through the air as if she was batting away a fly, and not Noct’s dire concern whether or not a wedding officiated by the Oracle of Eos was in any way valid.

“I’m doing it,” Luna insisted. “Oracles are healers. And what better represents healing than the love between two people? If I can bless babies and ward churches, I think I’m entitled to officiate the wedding of an old friend.”

Noctis raised an eyebrow, but smiled despite his skepticism. It didn’t sound like there was any official sanction that allowed the Oracle to have power over officiating a wedding, but Luna was going to find a way to make it binding. She had that way with people. That politely dangerous way of getting what she wanted. And the fact that she never asked for anything had a way of guilting the powers at be into letting her have her way.

“Don’t worry,” Luna told him, squeezing his hands between her. “You’re the groom. I know it’s your job to worry. But that’s what you have a best man for. And me for. And your father for. We’ll have everything taken care of to make this the perfect wedding day. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

Her confidence was infectious. Though, everyone seemed to be unworried about the wedding except for Noct. Nyx didn’t seem worried, either, and he was one of the men getting married. If it was the groom’s job to worry, why was Noct alone in the worrying?

“Because you’re my better half,” Nyx would tell him. “You worry for me, while I don’t worry for you.”

“I feel like I got the short end of this deal,” Noctis whined, flopping onto Nyx’s chest after whoever he had met with to finalize details for the upcoming event. “Can we trade? You worry for a bit, this is exhausting.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Nyx assured him, dancing a hand up his spine while Noctis sunk into a puddle on top of him.

“The second you say that, there’s going to be something to worry about.”

There really shouldn’t be though. The most powerful people in Eos were going to be at this wedding. And for no reason other than that they loved the intended couple. No ulterior motives, no forced negotiations, nothing. Just a family affair. A family of fierce warriors and a fiercer Luna to lead the charge. She had taken to wedding planning almost as voraciously as Noct’s own father had, determined that nothing was going to go wrong.

Nevertheless, a lifetime of living under the shadow of the Empire still plagued Noct’s head with doubts. Nyx kissed that head now, trying to chase all the doubts out.

“Trust me, little king. As someone who had their doubts about everything that’s happened this year. Good things are ahead.”

Noctis sighed. Here he’d been telling Nyx to trust all the good fortunes that had been dropped into their laps until now. And when it came down to accepting them himself, he did the exact same thing. Must have been part of that better half trade-off.

_Good things are ahead_ , he’d said. Noctis just had to trust him. He’d never had any problem doing that before. No reason to stop now.


	28. Wedding Countdown: Party of Four

**NYX:** _You’re getting to be as bad as a lifestyle blooger.  
_**ME:** _Blooger??_  
**NYX:** _Blogger! Damn autocorrect!!_

Noctis snorted, sent back a row of blue heart emojis, and looked up just in time to “oohh” and “aahh” at the food as the server set their order on the table. He might just have to torment Nyx with one more overly filtered photo for how pretty the presentation was.

Prompto’s stomach audibly gurgled next to him, eyes as big as saucers and salivating over the sushi. Noctis felt the table jolt as Ignis kicked him beneath it to keep him from drooling over their dinner. Gladio laughed and thanked the server, and all four of them took a moment to bask in the artful lanes of fish and rice. Bright pink sheets of salmon, waxen pinwheels of nori enclosing sticky rice, red pearls of salmon roe, soy sauce, pickled ginger, and wasabi. There was a dish of tempura shrimp, light and golden curls of crunchiness alongside beautiful bowls of ramen steaming softly in the frosted, ambient light of the restaurant lanterns.

“You sure you don’t want a stripper instead?” Gladio asked as Noctis tapped a few quick pics to send off to his fiancée.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of nice strippers in Insomnia, but not one of them is going to satisfy me as much as this sushi is.”

Gladio opened his mouth like he was about to say something to the contrary, but a sharp elbow from Ignis kept him from soiling the table’s perfectly innocent appetites. Noctis had to laugh. He wasn’t twelve anymore, and he was marrying the most erotic man he’d ever shared a bed with. But Ignis was right; this wasn’t a conversation for a dinner table. Even between friends.

“I’ll take sushi over strippers for a bachelor party, any day,” Prompto declared, snatching up his chopstick and ready to dig in.

“A moment, if you please.”

Prompto whined like a dying anak calf at Ignis’s command, but complied nevertheless – Ignis had that effect on people. He tipped his cocktail towards Noctis, and his friends followed suit.

“A toast to Noct,” Ignis said. “And to the future. May it always remain brighter than the shadow of the past.”

“Here, here,” the rest of them agreed, meeting in the middle of the table for a gentle clink of glasses.

There would no doubt be plenty of trials ahead, but none that could be darker than the ones they’d all left behind. It was a new year, of new beginnings, and new roads to travel. Noct’s head felt light as he downed his cocktail, and he could think of no one else he’d rather be traveling down those roads with.

His phone buzzed one more time before they all dug into their feast. It was Nyx saying, “ _I hate you_ ” with a winking emoji and a broken heart. Noctis texted back, “ _I love you too.”_

Make that a roadtrip of four, plus one handsome hitchhiker.


	29. Wedding Countdown: Three Cakes

“That’s it! I’ve had it with these blasted recipes.”

Noctis affected a shocked and appalled gasp at Iggy’s malaise of Michelin proportions. The mockery did not seem to lighten his friend’s mood, glaring with all the fires of Ifrit’s fury between three artisan cakes lined up on the kitchen table.

“Never thought I’d see anyone look so angry about cake,” Nyx chuckled, following Noctis towards the table – strategically keeping his soon-to-be-husband between himself and Iggy’s ire.

“It’s not just _any_ cake,” Ignis insisted, hands clutching the edge of the counter. “Your wedding cake is supposed to have more meaning than any ordinary cake.”

“Specs, so long as it tastes like cake, we’ll be happy,” Noctis chuckled. “We’re low maintenance, promise.”

“Not about cake, you’re not,” Ignis insisted, skewering Noctis with a glare filled with decades of experimentation suffered under the scrutiny of the picky prince.

Nyx nodded at the three cakes lines up on the table. “You’ve narrowed down the options, I take it?”

Ignis dragged his hand through his hair, disrupting the neat pompadour into a shaggy mop on his head. “Yes,” he sighed. “I believe so. I just can’t figure which combines the best of both world.”

“Would a taste test from the grooms help decide?”

Ignis gave Noctis an exhausting look, knowing he was only fishing for a taste to satisfy his sweet tooth, not aiming to help. Nevertheless, he puffed out a heavy sigh, and gestured for the two of them to sit. “Might as well. It’ll do no good to decide on the perfect cake only for you both to hate it.”

The first cake was a torte of green tea mousse painstakingly molded around two layers of tasty, tropical compote. It looked like a work of modern art, too pretty to cut into, but tasted even better once they did. It was light as air, fragrant with citrus, tasting of spring days spent lazing under flowering trees, balanced and creamy and perfectly palatable.

“It reminds me of you,” Nyx said, smiling at Noctis with a forkful of fluffy flavors in his mouth.

Noctis smiled back, cheeks coloring, and Ignis quickly cut them the next sample before he lost them to the honeymoon gaze forever.

Next was a whiskey date cake, with a buttercream frosting of salted pear caramel. More rustic and earthy than the first, rooted more in Galahdian home-cooking than the previous sample’s Lucian commercialism. It was denser and warmer in flavor, spiced with cinnamon and allspice, and summoned the tastes of a dark winter’s night by the fireside.

“And this one reminds me of you,” Noctis said, nudging his shoulder against Nyx’s.

Ignis narrowed his eyes, glancing between his specimens. He presented the two husbands-to-be with the final cake, one he hadn’t even intended to put in the running. It was too simplistic for a royal wedding, too banal.

A deep, midnight chocolate cake, moistened with brewed espresso and layered with a sweet, ulwaat berry compote. He’d gone with a lavender flavored frosting to lighten the dark colors and add a floral note to compliment the berries. It wasn’t his most ambitious work, and it didn’t draw much from either Lucian or Galahdian baking customs.

But as Noctis and Nyx both grinned over the bites, and turned to each other with the verdict, Ignis – though flabbergasted – knew that this was the right cake.

“It reminds me of you,” Noctis told Nyx.

“Reminds me of you, too,” Nyx told Noctis.

They might not have married the two cultural flavors Ignis had been hoping for, like the previous two cakes, but if it married the two personalities of the ones getting married… Nothing brought people together quite like chocolate cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipeh refs!  
> [Matcha Cake](https://verdadedesabor.blogspot.com/2018/11/torta-fresh.html) for Noct!  
> [Whiskey Date & Buttermilk Cake with Salted Pear Caramel Buttercream](https://adventuresincooking.com/whiskey-date-buttermilk-cake-with/) for Nyx!
> 
> And the winning cake is one I made up in my head lol It pales in comparison to how good these two look, if you ask me!


	30. Two of a Kind

It had been so long since Nyx had been invited to a wedding, that he’d forgotten just how simple and decent and good the whole affair could be.

Getting married was so much easier than the bridezilla bullshit he coasted past on primetime television. A decade of braindead nights, surfing through channels, had imprinted a toxic malboro bog of adolescent-grade dramatics from grown adults in the back of his head… maybe that was why he’d been a bachelor for so long. Maybe he’d been subconsciously steering clear of marriage in part because of the viciously neurotic stigma surrounding weddings.

Nyx shook his head, scanning the gardens around him now. No, definitely not. There just hadn’t been a Noct up until now.

Of all the weddings in the world that should have fallen victim to the stigma of unnecessary over-complication, a base-born glaive from Galahd to the pureblood heir of the Lucian throne should have given that famous, bloody wedding from the most morbid Medieval show on premium television a run for its money. But rather than losing his head in the banquet hall to some eerie death dirge, the Citadel gardens were serene and secure, with his Kingsglaive comrades patrolling the perimeter like a pack of coeurls ready to pounce on the first sniff of danger.

Within the walls made by the ebony sentinels, the gardens were blooming with early spring flowers, the deep indigo blossoms of the late queen’s favorite, bright with crystals of melting frost. Banners of black and silver decorated the gazebo and the arbors and the long tables spilling over with food like a still life painting – the centerpiece being the tall, glossy-frosted cake that Ignis had slaved over for weeks beforehand.

Two worlds came together across the gardens. The dark Lucian severity of tailored suits around the rustic plates of casual cuisine; the stoic handshakes turning into one-armed hugs of greeting as the familiar faces assembled got to know each other.

And then of course there was himself, feeling too big for the nice clothes the Lucian tailors had made sure fit him perfectly. And there was Noct in front of him, looking as perfect as the first day he knew he was in love with him, with every bit of nervous energy in his hands as he held Nyx’s.

“Deep breaths, everyone,” Luna whispered next to them, amused by the elated shivers running through the grooms.

Libertus patted Nyx’s shoulders from his place as best man, and Gladio slapped Noct’s back to scare the jitters right out of him. Later, Prompto’s photos would tell a different story. Later, they would flip through beautifully framed photos that didn’t catch an ounce of the nervousness they both felt.

They would see the peaceful smile of the King’s face in the front seat as Luna recited the expected words, gesturing gracefully between both worlds to bridge the links of love. They would see Crowe and Ignis toasting over the buffet table – one with a bottle of beer, the other with a glass of wine. They would see a few snuck-in selfies of Prompto by the cake, and one with Luna after the ceremony, raising a glass to the camera.

And they would see themselves dancing through the flowers, totally oblivious to their photographer catching the moment. They would see the soft smiles mirrored on their faces, the unguarded distraction of their eyes on one another.

And the two, twin rings lined against each other, over their interlocked hands, latched together for the rest of time.


	31. One Day

One day.

That’s how it had always been. Always a distant glare of light in the future, one that could be there and gone in the blink of an eye.

_One day, I’ll be able to stop fighting._

_One day, it’ll be safe to settle down._

_One day, I’ll find someone who loves me._

That one day had always been like a fairytale. Something he tried to tell himself in the dead of night when the nightmares threatened to smother him in his sleep. He had to get up the next morning because, one day, someone was going to need him. He had to win this fight because, one day, he would have something worth coming home to.

For decades, he’d been holding on by a thread for that one, perfect day which would open the door to a future full of perfect, peaceful days. He really didn’t think he would live to see it. He didn’t think he deserved a happy ending, not after all the failings he was trying to atone for from his past.

And yet, completely unexpected, that one day was today. It was this whole year so far, heralding happiness at every corner. Peace had spread across the land, barricades coming down and lands unlocking from the Empire’s iron fists. He felt fulfilled in the work he was doing for his people back in Insomnia, in the relief efforts the glaive had permission to put forward.

It didn’t really hit him that all of this was real, until he stood on the shores of Galahd. With Noct’s hand in his, the Prince curled around his arm as they sat in the sands.

He didn’t think he’d ever be back here. Let alone to share it with someone he loved. With someone who had given him reason to look forward to the future, and putting himself in it.

“This is real, right?” he asked Noctis now, just in case it wasn’t.

Noctis looked up at him, long bangs teased by the breeze off the ocean, pale face struck golden in the sunset. He smiled, the shy curl of his lips Nyx’s unbidden savior from the dark.

“How do you want me to prove it to you?”

Nyx smiled and shook his head, bringing it down to rest on Noct’s. He would just have to trust that it was. And if he trusted anything in this world, he trusted Noctis. He trusted the weight of his hand in his, the warmth of his body pressed against his side, the softness of his hair tickling his nose.

There was no imagining this kind of happiness. He would have never even let himself dream of being this happy.

Noctis turned his face beneath Nyx’s, ducking his head to reach his lips. Just a small, soft, chaste kiss, drawn out just enough for Nyx to be assured by the tactile tingle of it against his mouth. This was real. Noctis was real. And more than he would have ever asked for.

“I’m with you, hero,” Noct murmured, bumping his nose against his. “Always. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Nyx smiled. “Always, little king.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Somehow, managed to write something for all thirty-one days of January... how did that happen? I think I blacked out for half of it. Anyway, thanks to everyone who commented along on these indulgent little snippets, and to everyone who tried out the challenge, too! Thanks to Aithilin for proposing it in the first place! It was a good idea to keep the brain warmed up going into New Year's! Here's to a lot more love in this fandom as the year goes on! <3
> 
> Also! Remember that I can be found over on [my tumblr,](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/) where I cry about our favorite disaster gays, crosspost fics, and accept prompts!


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